Starless Night
by Gotik Freesja
Summary: It's my first FF inspired by Toriyama's wonderful masterpiece.My English isn't very good.So,please,try to be patient!It's a strange FF about a sayan girl who’s grieving for her missing father.Maybe it's too sloppy but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway!


Starless Night

Freesia was quietly lying down on her bed, when she suddenly heard the children making noise outside, in the little square of the village: they sounded happy... It has been a lot… too much time since she had heard someone laughing. Everyone and everything was grim because of the war, the destruction and the worries that plagued the people of that poor, tired planet. What's more, the winter was so cold… the quiet and immovable, but icy and sharp air froze her fingers and her little turned-up nose was all red. She felt a shudder to her heart… That damned winter did not just make her shake and sneeze; it seemed to freeze her spirit, her heart, the little part of her which was still sensitive, sweet, docile and feminine in her pitiless warrior temperament. Nevertheless, in hearing the children laughing outside, she didn't have the courage to show herself at the little misted-glasses window: all of a sudden she realized how fragile and scared she was. Scared? Why? She didn't know nor could she explain her odd feelings. The door was suddenly opened: Tarragon appeared on the doorstep, a cheerful smile on his face, inviting her to go out with a fast, fortuitous gesture of the hand. She agreed and sighed in seeing her half-brother so carefree and joyful. Her eyes were half-closed and absent, fixing the ground, while she was walking out of the small house, asking herself why the kid was so different from her, what determined the radical difference in the way they reacted, faced life… He showed his own thoughts and feelings… He could do it without feeling ashamed. She sighed long and deep, finding herself in the centre of the square: she almost forgot how she got there.   
"Don't you think it is absolutely wonderful?" he asked her unexpectedly, awaking her from her heartbreaking nightmares.  
"What?" she asked incredulous, when she admired the sky and the candid snow-flakes that danced, lightly and slowly, in the nocturnal air.  
"I have never seen it before: it is wonderful! My mom says that it has been fifteen years since it last snowed here!" exulted Tarragon, running toward his friends, leaving the poor, upset and overwhelmed Freesia fixing her opened palms on which the white flakes gently settled.  
The beautiful girl raised her eyes to the compact and overcast sky: it was nearly red, she could have said, although it was late evening, … And it reminded her something far away and lost, an absence of life, no… A passed life of which her mind had a confused memory, enclosed in some remote angle of her subconscious.  
She shook.  
"My mom says that it has been fifteen years since it last snowed here!" Tarragon had said a little before.  
"It has been fifteen years since the last time that snow has fallen here!" she whispered slowly: " It has been fifteen years since the last time dad has been here!", and the tears filled her dark eyes: she couldn't withhold them, although she tried so hard to stop them. Realizing her fragility, she was ashamed of that, even if no-one was looking at her.  
The candid flakes melted on the palms of her small, delicate hands and they stirred to her crystalline tears: how could her roaring warrior spirit, her fearless and imperturbable heart, her lucid and daring mind… How could they pour pathetic, pitiful tears of pain and compassion? She shrugged her shoulders, shaking like a leaf for the shame.  
_This starless sky… What a sadly wonderful night!_, she thought walking along the path that led to the forest.  
Tarragon turned, perplexed in seeing her going all alone, in the middle of the night, towards the forest:  
"But where is she going, mom?" he asked, confused and hesitating, letting a note of worry vibrate in his voice.  
Emeraude, beside him, put her warm hands on his shoulders, looking seriously at Freesia, who disappeared along the path. She smiled then and her eyes became misty with an infinite melancholy:  
"Poor Freesia!" she whispered.

"Dad… Dad…" the young woman called with a hoarse voice: "Where are you? Why don't you come back home?… Dad!" she called out, while the tears were falling along her reddened cheeks.  
The path was veiled of a white mantle, as the crushed and ruined stairs of the old deconsecrated church. Tottering and staggering like her, it didn't want to surrender to the threats and the violence of life.  
The lass fell on her knees, tortured, on the stairs, shaking visibly:  
"Father… I beg you!" she cried.  
_Affections survive: death cannot destroy them!_ , she was astonished of her own thoughts, _Starless night… Give my father back to me!_ .  
A shudder caught her and she realized, without knowing why, that her father was right there in that precise moment… Just in front of her.  
She jumped on her feet and precipitated within the tottering building, following that crazy sixth sense that had saved her many times.  
And her father was there, seated to earth, under the half-destroyed statue of the angel and he was gladly looking at her.  
"You're here for me, my little Freesia" he whispered her with quiet and serene voice: "You've grown up so much: you're absolutely wonderful!".  
Freesia fell on her knees in front of him: she would have liked to embrace him, but her temperament didn't allow her to; she would have liked to insult him for having left her alone, but the traditions of her people demanded inviolable respect for parents; she would have liked to hold his hand… But she had understood. She didn't want to believe it, she was scared and saddened. The figure in front of her was not her father… Yes, it was, but not in the flesh.  
"I thought you had abandoned me… I thought you didn't give a damn about us…" she whispered with hoarse voice: "Would you have returned, if the destiny had prescribed you a long life? Or was it in your intention to disappear, to go away and never return?".  
Her father smiled and shook his head, his raven hair danced on his shoulders:  
"Could I? Could I have abandoned such a beautiful daughter? Why are you crying? There's no need to.".  
Freesia smiled, drying up her tears:  
"I didn't think you were so comprehensive and affectionate." she asserted and they stood silence for some minutes, looking at each others.  
Freesia stretched her hand towards the father, who had jumped on his feet:  
"Don't go, I beg you!".  
"I have to. I don't have other choice.", he answered and stretched his hand toward hers, barely smiling. For a moment their fingers nearly seemed to touch, as Freesia perceived the paternal heat diffusing in her body, enveloping it.  
She followed her father to the doorway of the enormous portal of the temple.  
She watched the high and muscular figure of the father going away along the white path, with long, uncombed and rebellious hair, pushed out from the icy, but light wind. He turned to watch, serious and resolute:  
"Some day I will return." he promised and her heart fell apart.  
"Goodbye, dad… Goodbye!" she whispered.  
And Raditz' ghost disappeared in the darkness of that starless night, leaving her under the reddish sky which rocked her with its candid snow… Alone but proud that some superior being… Of which she didn't even know the existence had allowed a dead person's spirit to go to her, little and dispersed being in the immense and eternal universe.

[And so, what do you think about it? Review, review, review: comments and criticism (constructive, please!).. 


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